Zara
The SUV rolled to a quiet stop, its engine still breathing beneath me like a restrained animal. Tinted glass sealed me inside, muting the world to shadows and motion. Streetlights bled softly across the hood, pale gold against black metal. Somewhere nearby, a generator hummed. Somewhere else, a man was about to die—if he showed his face.
I adjusted my coat and stayed seated.
Outside, my men moved first. Doors opened. Boots hit the ground in practiced rhythm. Metal whispered as guns were drawn, not raised, just ready. Two bodyguards took the front. Two circled wide. The driver stayed put, eyes forward, waiting for my signal.
I smiled to myself.
Mataru had always liked quiet places. He thought silence made him untouchable.
If he stepped out tonight, I wouldn't hesitate.
The door opened for me at last.
Cool air brushed my face as I stepped down, heels firm against the concrete. I didn't rush. I never rushed. Power didn't hurry—it arrived.
My gaze swept the compound in one smooth arc. Windows. Corners. Shadows. A flicker of movement near the stairwell. My fingers flexed once at my side, instinct sharp and awake.
This was supposed to be simple.
I took three steps forward.
Then I saw him.
Not Mataru.
Desmond stood near the entrance, hands loose at his sides, posture relaxed in a way that tried too hard to look harmless. A faint smile curved his lips, the kind men practiced in mirrors when they wanted to appear in control.
My body went still.
Interesting.
My guards reacted instantly—guns half-lifted, attention snapping to him like a trap closing.
I raised one finger.
They froze.
Desmond's eyes flicked to the weapons, then back to my face. His smile didn't falter, but something tightened behind it. Calculation. Not fear.
Good. Fear was useless. Calculation meant he understood where he stood.
I took another step, slow, deliberate.
"You're not who I expected," I said.
His smile deepened just a fraction.
"I know what you want."
There it was.
Not a greeting. Not a denial. A claim.
I studied him openly now—his stance, the way his weight leaned slightly back as if prepared to move, the careful distance he kept from my guards. He smelled faintly of smoke and something sharper underneath. Tension.
"I didn't come here to talk," I said.
"I know."
Something about the way he said it scraped wrong. Too calm. Too prepared.
My gaze drifted past him, toward the door behind.
"Mataru," I said flatly. ""Where is he?"
Desmond's eyes followed mine for half a second before returning to me.
"Oh, come on, Zara," he said smoothly. "Mataru isn't important right now. You've got bigger business."
A muscle jumped in my jaw.
Unfortunate—for him.
" if I'd amused him.
"I wouldn't advise that," he said. "You don't leave business unfinished, do you?"
The words were deliberate. Measured.
And they told me everything I needed to know.
I took one more step, stopping just short of him. Close enough to see the lie hiding behind his eyes. Close enough to smell the confidence he'd borrowed, not earned.
"Careful," I said. "You're assuming a lot."
His lips curved again—but this time, I saw it clearly.
Deception.
Not reassurance. Not charm.
A mask.
"I'm offering you something," he said. "Not standing in your way."
I laughed once, short and humorless.
"Men who say that usually end up bleeding."
"Only if they misjudge you," he replied. "And I haven't."
I tilted my head slightly.
"That's your first mistake."
Silence stretched between us, heavy and watchful. Somewhere behind me, one of my guards shifted his stance. I didn't look back. I didn't need to.
Desmond exhaled, as if conceding a point.
"Let me be clear," he said. "I'm not here to protect Mataru." My eyes sharpened.
"Then you're wasting my time."
"No," he said smoothly.
He reached for the table this time, sliding a thin folder across the glass. I didn't touch it. He opened it himself.
Photos.
Two men. Familiar faces. Too familiar.
"There," Desmond said quietly. "The ones in my way."
I leaned forward just enough to look.
"The men close to Raymond," I said. "You think I don't know what that does?"
"They're not his problem," he replied. "They're mine. They've been moving against me."
I straightened.
"And Raymond?"
He didn't hesitate.
"Raymond is never vulnerable."
I crossed my arms.
"Everyone bleeds."
"He has men," Desmond cut in. "He has power. He has reach."
His gaze dipped briefly, then lifted back to mine.
"And he has you."
I stared at him.
Slowly, deliberately, I shook my head.
"No," I said. "No, no."
He frowned—just slightly.
"You don't trust me." That wasn't a question.
"I don't trust anyone who plans this far ahead," I said. "Especially not you."
His lips curved again—that same deceptive smile.
"Fair."
My guards shifted behind me as I took a step back. Desmond noticed. Calculated.
"You want me to believe this stops with them," I said. "That you're not aiming higher."
"One step at a time," he said calmly. "They fall because they're in my way."
"And after?" I pressed.
His voice lowered.
"After, I give you what you actually came for."
I didn't move.
"Which is?"
He met my eyes.
"Cynthia."
The word landed clean. Deliberate.
"I help you take her out," he continued. "Quietly. Completely. And when she's gone—"
He paused, watching my face.
"—Raymond won't be alone. He'll have you by his side. Stronger. More dangerous. The woman who can stand where she couldn't."
My jaw tightened.
"And you expect me to just believe that," I said.
"I expect you to want it," he replied.
."
"And Mataru?" I asked sharply. "I came for him."
Desmond didn't answer immediately.
When he did, his voice was firm.
"We need him."
My fingers curled.
"He's smart," Desmond continued. "Connected. Useful. Killing him now is wasteful."
I laughed again, colder this time.
"You're telling me to walk away."
"I'm telling you to wait."
I stepped closer again, close enough that my shadow fell across his chest.
"You don't get to decide that."
"No," he said quietly. "But tonight, circumstances do."
For a moment, the world narrowed to the space between us. His confidence pressed forward. My restraint pulled back.
Cynthia's name hovered at the edge of my thoughts, unspoken. Not yet. Not like this.
Desmond watched my face as if waiting for something to break.
Nothing did.
Finally, I exhaled.
"So," I said. "What's next?"
Relief flickered across his features before he hid it.
"I'll show you."
I turned without another word, heels clicking toward the SUV. My guards moved with me instantly, formation tightening. The door opened. I slid back into the leather seat, pulse steady, mind sharp.
Desmond followed, stopping just short of the door.
This wasn't an alliance.
Not yet.
As the SUV pulled away, the city lights blurring into streaks of gold and shadow, I kept my gaze forward.
The plan was beginning.
Whether it survived me was another question entirely.